Three Month's Pause
by Arda Silverlace
Summary: What happened during those uncharted months between the heartbreaking moments atop the Opera House roof and the Masquerade Ball? Erik wasn't as idle as Christine thought...he didn't spend all his time working on the score of Don Juan, but rather watching
1. Intro of a Sort

**Three Month's Pause**

_Chapter One: Intro of a Sort_

A/N: My sister (Alda Rethe) and I like to roleplay, so we often do so over email. This is our Phantom of the Opera Roleplay. 'Tis a mixture of the Andrew Loyd Webber movie(mainly), but alsothe Gaston Leroux book and Susan Kay's book. It takes place during the three month period, where Phantom is supposedly dormant. _"Three months of Ellysian peace!" _As one of the managers said.

Disclaimer: My lovely sis and I own nothing you read. The plot is barely even ours. Based soley on the plot of ALW movie and the characters of the book.

Um, the rating of 'T' is as a slight precaution, seeing as there is some violence and tense moments in the coming chapters.

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"_Dear Most Respected O.G.,  
As a manager of your enchanting opera  
I feel that I speak for all  
When I say that these notes are as annoying  
as the deity Hera snoring.  
We'd appreciate it if you cease your calls.  
A good evening to you sir,  
Andre_" 

Folding and sealing his letter in a tan envelope, Andre stuck it in his sleeve and glanced around Opera Popularie. He did not know where to place it (how would the ghost find it?), so decidedly took it out of his sleeve and, with an eye-catching flourish, um, placed it on a staircase.

**2 Days Later**

On her way to the ballet rehearsal something caught Madam Giry's attention. An envelope made of rough parchment and sealed with a crimson skull was placed boldly on the bottom of the grand stairwell.

Madame G muttered, "Oh, _mon dieu_," her forehead creased as she frowned. She bent to pick the letter up and hurried off to find one of the moron managers.

"_My Dear Managers,  
I fear your last letter's message was lost on me.  
So, excuse me when I remind you  
That my salary is well past due.  
I believe this was a slip of the tongue on your part.  
But, if you are not using the young Ms. Daae,  
I should like to borrow her voice for a while.  
Your most dutiful servant,  
O.G._"

Monsieur Firmin made an odd noise, blowing air out between his gritted teeth, resulting in a sound much like a horse. "The utter gall!" He bellowed, throwing the letter on the marble floor.

"I recall this has happened before, Monsieur..." Ms. Giry prompted.

"Indeed it has. And none too well was the result," growled said manager, chewing his lip and thinking.

Monsieur Andre found his way to the two worried figures. "What is the matter this tim--? Ah." Upon spotting the foreboding skull seal his question disappeared and a new one took form. "What does the monster want now?"

"That beast wants _his_ 20,000 francs," M. Firmin, said, putting a sarcastic emphasis on 'his.' "And apparently he's rather fond of Ms. Daae, because he wants to 'borrow her voice.'" Firmin's face grew sour, as he addressed his next question to them both. "Whatever in God's name does that mean?"

**Nearby….**

Blissfully ignorant somewhat to the absences of the ballet teacher and the two managers, Christine continued her stretches and warm up exercises for ballet with Meg. She attempted to keep her "Angel of Music" out of her lurking thoughts.

Even if Christine didn't notice that the ballet students weren't being supervised, Meg did. She furtively glanced around the practice stage, making sure that no one was watching them.

Her petite pale face broke into a smile as she grabbed her friend's hand. "Come, Christine. Let us take a break. We've practiced enough and I want to talk with you."

Despite the young Meg's belief that no one was watching the ballerinas practice, there was a single shadowy spectator. He silently studied the two young girls as they exited, and waited a moment before following them.

**Meanwhile…**

"Well," Meg began in her small, quiet voice. "You seem so frightened, Christine, ever since the performance of Il Muto. What's happened? The police are positive that Buquet's death was a suicide and I'm sure Carlotta will be fine, if that's what you're worried about." Meg paused as a troupe of young ballet rats giggled past, all dressed in their tutus, ribbons and slippers, even though they were only to practice.

She continued in a concerned voice. "Vicomte de Changy has spoken with me and he's worried about you, too."

At the mention of the young sailor's name, a quiet, disapproving hiss seemed to come from the depths of the shadows.

Sensing, more so than hearing, a faint sound of displeasure, Christine froze. Was that him? Could it truly be? _No_, she assured herself in seconds, _he'd be too preoccupied in his lair to torture me today_.

Putting on a brave face for her dear friend, Christine smiled. It looked slightly painful combined with her frightful pallor and tired red eyes. "Oh, I'm fine, Meg. You and the Vicomte have nothing to worry about. I'm just a little weary. But we'd better hurry back to practice before someone comes looking for us. We don't want to anger your mother now, do we?"

She took a step towards where the stage was, following the direction that the ballet rats had gone not a moment before.

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A/N: It's a really short chapter, we know. Sorry about that. 

They will get longer as the story progresses.

Erm, this first chapter might not make complete sense, so forgive us for this. Please review! Questions (if any) will be answered, compliments are welcomed, and critisism is embraced.


	2. Dancing In Lies

**Three Month's Pause**

_Chapter Two: Dancing In Lies_

A/N: Oh, you guys are so nice. What a warm welcome, my sister and I received! We'd rather expected this story to go unnoticed, but thanks to you lot, that won't happen!

Demon In Me - I'm afraid Erik isn't quite into singing at the moment. You see, he's quietly spying on Christine...it wouldn't make much sense for him to give away his position by singing. But, we'll see if we can work it in, somehow.

Maidenhair: I like Erikway more than Raoul de Pansy. However, I have the sneaking suspicion that my sister has grown fond of the Vicomte, since she liked him more than the Phantom when we saw the 2004 movie. Nevertheless, we've decided to make this Raoul a decent character, seeing as some people like him. :-)

Melinda Daae: Thanks for the review! Here's another chapter we hope you'll enjoy!

MeghanKatherine: The romantic pairing (between Raoul and Chrisitne) is rather a secret, yes. Raoul wouldn't mind telling the whole world about their relationship, but Christine is worried about Erik's reaction and societys', as you'll see in this chapter.

Mortal Phantom: Thanks for taking interest in our story! We'll try to update regularly, although this will probably be a short fic. We weren't planning on making it long, or anything.

You might want to go back and read a bit of the last chapter to understand the beginning of this one.

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Meg cast her friend an unhappy look, as she followed her. Christine's weak explanation didn't convince her, but Meg would let the matter rest, seeing as Christine didn't want to talk about it. "Yes, I suppose we should return. Mother can get so upset when ballerinas are away without permission."

As the two girls were nearing the last corner that would lead them to the stage, they heard fast footsteps approaching. Mother Giry rounded the corner, her face determined, yet worried. Her eyes landed upon the two girls and her expression quickly changed to one of angry relief.

"You two! Where 'ave you been? Meg, how many times must I tell you not to wander off during practice! And Christine, your disappearance disconcerted the managers. I can't imagin--" Madame Giry's scolding was interrupted by an unforeseen breeze that made the tapestries flutter wildly.

"Come now," Giry said, stirring the girls towards the stage, and glancing around the empty corridor. "You must practice."

Christine followed Madame G. with a hurried apology. "I'm sorry, Madame Giry! It won't happen again," she said to her instructor's retreating back. Christine gave herself a mental slap. When Madame Giry had appeared all of a sudden, she had almost screamed, fearing that it was the Phantom nearing.

Christine had a feeling that her acute fright was just paranoia and extremely unnecessary. She had to speak to someone about it, though. Perhaps Raoul...

**Half an Hour Later**

Vicomte Raoul de Changy entered Opera Popularie, immediately feeling the intense setting of the place. Ever since La Carlotta gave her infamous croaking show and Buquet had died during _Il Muto_, people had been much more stressed. The young ballerinas, ballet rats, Christine told him, were more flighty, the managers were snappier, the audience had diminished and Christine seemed quieter, even whipped.

He was on his way now to ask her to lunch, hoping a day in Paris would soothe her. Raoul walked towards the stage area, where he knew Christine would be practicing, with a bouquet of flowers behind his back. He didn't notice an odd fluttering of a sheet hanging on a railing nearby.

**At the Stage...**

Christine was struggling in her dancing. The movements that used to come so easily to her were being performed with an effort. Twice she managed to trip fellow ballerinas and despite the warning cry from Meg, Christine had danced right into a small ballet rat. They both had fallen to their knees and the rat had burst into frustrated tears. Getting to her feet, Christine didn't miss the sore looks the managers sent her.

Madame Giry shook her head sadly. Christine was suffering with this new attention on her coming from so many different sources. (The managers, the Vicomte and the Phantom, to name a few.) The young Swedish girl couldn't focus on the steps, the rhythm, or the movement.

"Miss Daae, pay attention!" she scolded when the girl bumped into a young ballerina. Madame Giry knew nothing would be accomplished today in the ballet for the new opera. Her thoughts were reconfirmed when she noticed Vicomte de Changy with the managers.

"All right, girls, that is all for today. End with your exercises and I will see you all again tomorrow. Do not forget today's steps!" At this dismissal many of the girls rushed to each other, forming small cliques as they cooled down. She saw her daughter run to Christine.

"Christine," Meg whispered, holding her friend's hand in concern. "How are you? You seemed rather off during practice. Maybe you'll feel better now, now that Mr. de Changy is here." She pointed.

Christine managed a small smile at her friend's concern and her outright white lie. 'Seemed rather off'? She'd felt like a gangly giraffe out on stage, surrounded by graceful gazelles. However, her appreciation for her friend was quickly forgotten when she realized what Meg had said.

"Oh? Raoul is here?" Christine peered over Meg's shoulder and spotted the Vicomte, standing near the managers, looking quite confident and secure. He was exactly what she needed in this storm of confusion, fear and helplessness - an anchor, stable and reassuring. Christine smiled, her fears of the Phantom and his undoubted powers vanishing.

Meg prodded Christine's side, teasingly, happy to see her smile a true smile for once. She saw how gay and bright Christine became when she was with Raoul. "Of course, he's here, Christine. I wonder who he came to see?" She laughed. "You should go say hello."

**Over There...**

"Monsieur Andre, M. Firmin, it's good to see you both again." Raoul shook their hands. "How have the rehearsals for the new opera been going so far?"

"Dismal," Andre replied bitterly. "The dancing is a mess, the singers need work and that cursed Phantom of the Opera talk has yet to die down."

"Absolutely ghastly." Richard agreed. "It'll be a miracle if _The Silver Box _is ready come gala night." He cast a furious glance around the stage, imagining all their money from ticket sales going to waste.

With a furious shake of his head, he snapped out of his reverie. "Yes, well. What did you want?" Richard asked Raoul rather rudely, trying to ignore his gut feeling that this play would ever see opening night.

**Back with the Girls….**

Christine was about to go and do just as Meg had suggested, but stopped short upon seeing Raoul converse with the managers, both of whom wore ugly looks. "No, I think I'll wait until he's done talking to the managers. He must've come here on business." Christine said, and just like that, her doubts and fears were resurfacing.

Surely, their relationship was socially unacceptable - how could a Vicomte love a singer? How could he love her, let alone entertain the thought of marriage! And what of the Phantom? Where was he now, and what horrible ideas were brewing in his unhappy mind?

"Meg, I feel quite tired. I'm going to my dressing room to change." Christine suddenly excused herself, feeling the need for some peace and quiet, despite the dangers that threatened when she was alone.

**Over There Again…**

Raoul cleared his throat. "Actually, monsuiers, I'm here for a word with Mlle. Daae. Would that be all right?"

Andre answered him. "Yes, that's fine. Rehearsals are over today, anyway. See if you can talk some sense into her, she's been acting bizarre lately." Raoul was gone before Andre finished his sentence.

**To Meg…**

"But, Christine--" Meg began, however, the girl had left. This puzzled Meg, she had thought that Christine adored Raoul. Now she wasn't so sure due to her speedy retreat. Yet, that didn't stop her from telling Raoul where Christine had gone when he came up and asked her, moments later. When Raoul had left as well, with a breathless thanks, Meg noticed her mother looking after the Vicomte with a frown on her face.

The Phantom, lurking in the shadows of the curtains, observed all this, scowling. Quietly, deftly, he searched the floor with his hands, touched a wooden knob, pressed it, and was gone.

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A/N: Don't worry, Phantom will be a more prominent character in the upcoming few chapters. We'll try to get him to sing, or at least be sadly reminiscent. 

Oh, and if you haven't noticed, my sister and I tend to put little tidbits of humor in the chapters. Nothing major, but yeah. It's there. So don't be alarmed if the mood is all of a sudden interrupted by, erm, something odd happening. It's just a red herring.

Anyway.

Well, you know what to do: review! (Please.)


	3. Seeing Red Roses

**Three Month's Pause**

_Chapter 3: Seeing Red Roses_

A/N: Wow, you lot are fast reviewers. :)

Unfortunately, MeghanKatherine, it's gonna be Raoul & Christine in the end because we're following the movie. I know, I'm sad about it, too.

Hiya, Alda Rethe! It's so lovely of you to read this, even though you know it already! Such commitment is refreshing. Don't worry, sister dear, I won't bash on you or your Raoul no more. :P

Here's another chapter...I'm afraid there will only be another chapter after this one. Oh, and again, you might wanna read the last bit of Chapter 2 to understand the beginning of this one.

**

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**

**In the Hallways…**

Christine walked quickly and quietly down the halls towards her dressing room. The corridors were quite deserted, as the rehearsals had just ended and many of the ballerinas went off to enjoy their free time. The scene shifters and door openers weren't on duty either, for it was merely a day of practice.

The silence in this part of the Opera House frightened Christine. When she'd first arrived here as a child, she'd loved that the Opera house was so vast and always full of activity and noise. So, the absolute stillness and lack of goings-on in the corridors terrified her.

Her footsteps sounded too loud to her ears and her breathing so labored, she wondered if it was only she in the corridor.

Finally nearing her dressing room door, Christine quickened her step, and positively fled into the room, bolting the door shut behind her.

**Meanwhile…**

Though the Phantom knew that Christine had ventured quickly and hurriedly to her dressing room, without a single stop, he arrived there before her.

Behind the cold and luminous one-way mirror, the Phantom watched her enter the room, panting and shaking slightly. She locked the door behind her in false hope that this would prevent visitors. Of course, it wouldn't stop him from coming and going, as he liked.

There were always other ways.

_Christine's fear of me is wrong_, he thought. _I would never wish to harm her_. He loved her and, at the moment, merely sought to make his presence known.

Using a pipe-like device that he blew into (which traveled through the walls ending near the flames of candles), he managed to blow out three candles on Christine's dressing tabletop. The Phantom was about to speak, when he heard distinctly male footsteps approach.

A knock on the door.

"Christine? Christine, are you there? It's me, Raoul." The Vicomte.

The Phantom sighed, justly bothered. "Arrogant twit," he breathed.

**Christine's Reaction:**

Christine had gasped when the candles died. The area near the mirror was now plunged in shadows and mystery. Her heart racing and her fears confirmed, Christine had been about to turn around and face the mirror, the mirror which the Phantom would surely be in, when there was an abrupt knock on the door.

The knock surprised her more than if should have, but in her already frightened state, the unexpected noise had made Christine start and she released a small scream, which she quickly stifled, clapping a pale hand over her mouth.

Hearing Raoul's voice through the wood of the door didn't comfort her, as it should have. She knew she was stuck in the middle of two men, either on opposing sides of the wall - one behind a door, the other probably behind the mirror.

Yet, she cared and feared for the safety of both.

Not knowing what to do, Christine decided she'd simply act normally. She surveyed her dressing room, and couldn't seem to shake the idea that the mirror gleamed, as if frowning at her bad judgment.

Taking a deep breath, Christine opened the dressing room door, yet not all the way, so that she was between Raoul and her dressing room. Christine wouldn't invite him in, she was certain. That would be asking for too much trouble.

"Oh, hello, Raoul." Christine put a smile on her face and forced her voice to be pleasant, nonchalant. "I was just about to change. But, how are you doing?"

"Oh, forgive me for intruding, Christine," Raoul studied what little he could see of her through the small opening. She seemed fine, but didn't appear as if she were about to change. He thought she looked lovely.

"I had hoped I could come in. I have something for you, and I was wondering if we could talk over lunch...elsewhere." He was aware of how frightened and shy Christine seemed inside the opera house. Beyond its walls she was much more spirited and alive; the Christine he knew as a child.

Hearing the pompous voice call on Christine so infuriated the Phantom. _She is mine_, he thought watching the two from the mirror. _Christine belongs to me, not that young idiotic aristocrat_.

He fumed as he listened to Raoul talk, in what he found to be an irritatingly deep and overconfident voice. Nothing like Christine's sweetly innocent and melodious voice. Her voice, the Phantom knew, he could change and mold into the perfect heavenly voice of an angel, if she only let him and devoted herself entirely to the cause.

The Phantom focused once again on the Vicomte, certain that if he entered Christine's dressing room, someone would surely pay, whether it would be him, Christine, or some other poor soul.

Someone would pay.

"Oh, um." Christine fumbled for a reply. It was hard for her to refuse Raoul's sweet offer of lunch, seeing as her awful practice had made her ravenous. Not only that, but he was so charming and doting, how could she turn him away when he'd come to her out of concern and even bearing a gift?

Christine glanced quickly over her shoulder, back into her dressing room, heaving a small sigh. She'd have to shelve her fears for the time being and trust Raoul's blind bravery.

"Of course, you may come in, Raoul." Christine said, attempting to smile cheerfully. "Just hold on a moment, while I finish changing, all right?"

Raoul smiled back, adoringly. "As you wish, Christine. I shall be out here if you need me." He allowed her to shut her door and change her clothes, even though he thought she looked beautiful just the way she was.

**Behind the Mirror...**

At Christine's consent for Raoul to enter, the Phantom grew enraged. This hateful boy was the reason for Christine's unwillingness to commit to him or to music. He was a distraction!

But he knew how to get rid of distractions.

His mother had done it for him often enough. When he grew too fond of a device he made, a sheet of music he played, a song he sang, and she would take away the toy, music sheet, or device and throw it into the fire or lock it away in a cupboard. He decided that he would do the same with the Vicomte de Changy.

The Phantom left his position behind the mirror, making his way silently through shadows, hidden areas, and trapdoors to the hallway leading to the entrance of Christine's dressing room, where Raoul stood, waiting a few yards away.

**Inside the Dressing Room...**

Christine gave Raoul a last, reassuring smile, before closing the door softly. She stood behind her door, leaning her back against it momentarily, before hurrying behind her changing screen.

She decided to wear something simple, yet elegant: a maroon dress of soft, velvety material, with a flowing skirt, a modest neckline and long sleeves. Thinking that things could become chilly in early November, Christine retrieved a black knitted shawl. She had dressed as quickly as she could, considering that most young women in the late 19th century wore corsets, and she was without any assistance. After doing some quick tidying up, Christine went back to fetch Raoul.

Raoul looked at the flowers he held in his hand for Christine. They were roses. Red roses, wrapped together in fancy black and silver tissue paper. He hoped she'd like them.

He checked his pocket watch, making sure that they would not be late for is reservations to a lovely restaurant in the heart of Paris. _Allumer et la Nuit_, was its name. It was one of the best in France, he was told.

**Hidden in the Shadows...**

Upon seeing the roses, red roses, which were his symbol, the Phantom hissed in resentment. This would not do, at all. He entertained thoughts of killing the boy right this very moment with his Punjab lasso, but dismissed them.

No, he would wait until tonight, when the boy came back with Christine.

If he did, that is.

Then the Phantom of the Opera would be ready.

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A/N: Dun dun dun duunnnn! 

Sorry for the cliffhanger. We'll update again soon. Don't forget to review, lovelies!


	4. Jealous Love

**Three Month's Pause**

_Chapter 4: Jealous Love_

A/N: Thanks to all of the reviewers; new and old! My sister (Alda Rethe) and I hope you'll review this last chapter!

MeghanKatherine: Thanks for being such a loyal reviewer and supporting us from the start!

Kiwi Anime: Thanks for the lovely review! I'm pretty sure you'll have some critisim on this chapter; my sister and I find it kind of choppy. But, you'll see.

Lindaleriel: Good for you! A Raoul supporter - one of the few. Thansk for reviewing. I think you shoudl still write a story of this type -there are so many possibilities of what can happen in the 'lost' three months.

Maidenhair: Another loyal reviewer! Well, we're glad you like this fic. And yes, my sister and I are both girls. Ahem, yeah.

Born2drama: A new reviewer! Thanks! We hope you'll review this (last) chapter.

Oh, and forgive me for the **bold** font transitioning phrases. I just write whatever I fancy in there, sometimes. Just to, erm, amuse myself.

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Christine opened the door. "I'm ready," she announced grandly. 

Raoul greeted her with an admiring smile. "Oh, Christine, you look like a goddess!" He straightened, looked her up and down, gently took her hand and kissed it. "Flowers for the deity," he said presenting her with the roses.

The Phantom glowered.

Stupid boyought toknow better. Compliments went to Christine's head, as evil as that sounded. But it was true. It was not good, for it gave her a false sense of security and made her try less to succeed. He knew this, it was why he rarely gave her them.

But he had to admit, if only to himself, that Christine looked stunning.

Like an angel.

Like the Angel of Music he knew she could become.

Christine blushed prettily. "Oh, Raoul you are too kind," Christine said, managing not to observe the color of the roses. Ordinarily, she would've immediately noticed the roses were red and panic, relating them to the Phantom's affections. However, at the moment she was too flattered to notice anything but Raoul's brilliant, pleased smile.

"Would you like to come in?" Christine continued, opening her door. "I have some rather delicious chocolates. From Spain, you know."

"From one of your many supporters, I suppose?" Raoul chuckled.

Christine's sudden fame at the Opera Populaire had earned her a great number of admirers, which bothered him only slightly. He knew he had Christine's affections, but popularity could go to a singer's head. He hoped that his Little Lotte would never turn into a La Carlotta. He walked into Christine's dressing room, casting her a warm glance.

The Phantom of the Opera watched the foppish boy enter the dressing room. As Christine shut the door behind him, he let out a furious cry.

That was it. This was it! He could no longer just sit idly by as the Vicomte stole Christine away. He must act!

The Masquerade Ball was a few nights away and a ploy was brewing inside the Phantom's head. There, at the ball, in front of everyone, he would remind Christine, the aristocrat, and all at the Opera that the Opera Ghost was still in charge and meant to be feared.

He readied himself, about to leave for there was much to do before the ball, when he decided to do one last thing.…

**Inside the Dressing Room:**

Christine showed her beau to his seat in a pale chintz armchair, taking the exquisite flowers from him. She pointed out the golden box of chocolates on the side table next to his chair, "Help yourself to some, Raoul. They are rather too rich for me."

Christine momentarily busied herself with putting the budding blossoms into a vase. She arranged the roses delicately, fanning them out evenly, with measured concern.

Raoul smiled at Christine's lovely hospitality. She was such a sweet, caring, beautiful girl. He didn't sit down yet, waiting for Christine to complete her task and take a seat first. It was the gentlemanly thing to do. But he did help himself to a chocolate.

**Outside...**

With silent ease the Phantom removed himself from the shadows, straightening to his full height. He touched the dressing room's door, grazing a gloved hand against it, knowing Christine and that boy were on the opposite side of it. Doing God knows what. He trusted Christine, but not the Vicomte. Yet if that fool touched her...

The Opera Ghost left the dormitories, leaving the thought unfinished. His bloodlust needed no more fueling.

**Inside!**

Raoul then checked his pocket watch. "Oh, Christine! If we do not leave now we will surely be late! Come," he took her gently by the hand, "we don't want them to give our reservations away, do we?" He opened the door.

"Oh, no. Of course not," Christine said, brightly, slipping her hand into his. She smiled at him ardently, as they walked through the door and down the corridors towards the waiting carriage. "So, tell me, where have we the reservations?"

**Outside!**

The Phantom reappeared far above and away from Christine and Raoul's current position. He knew that they would eventually leave the building to indulge in the happiness of the lucky people, but did not wish to witness the sickening sight of his angel with another again that day. He roamed the wooden catwalks above the opera stage submerged in thought. Then he heard a noise. He froze, slipping into the obscure side of a walkway. The noisemaker made him break into a dark smirk.

An unsuspecting stagehand. How fortunate.

**The Pretty Couple...**

Raoul squeezed his childhood friend's hand, warmly. "It's this lavish restaurant, right in the middle of Paris. I've never dined there before but I'm told that the food is splendid." He smiled at her. "But we'll be able to find out together if that is the truth, won't we, Little Lotte?"

Christine beamed up at Raoul. She couldn't believe how much he'd grown since childhood. How much they'd both grown.

Time had been good to Raoul - he'd come together nicely. No longer was he the flushed boy who'd retrieved her scarf from the sea. Now a successful Vicomte and quite dashing; nothing could hold him back from his destiny. Christine couldn't keep the thought from her mind, _'If Time has altered him, what has Time done to me?_'

Raoul led Christine out of the opera house, still holding her hand. Such physical contact between himself and this girl, which he was extremely fond of, made him dizzy with happiness. He helped her into the awaiting carriage and reluctantly released her hand as he got in on the other side. "To _Allumer et la Nuit_, please." He told the driver and with a bump they were on their way.

**Killer on the Loose**…

The Phantom watched the stagehand. The stagehand scratched his...bum. Twice. Then picked his nose. Disgusted, he decided that such a bizarre person shouldn't reside in the Opera Popularie, _his_ domain. Silently, like a black panther, the Opera Ghost came up behind the stagehand retrieving his lasso from the depths of his cloak. The ignorant stagehand burped.

**Back to the Beauties…**

Christine thanked Raoul when he helped her in, then settled herself nicely onto the cushioned bench-seats. It was quite comfortable in the carriage - Raoul had excellent taste. She glanced around as the carriage lurched to a start.

The Opera House looked magnificent, towering and distant, in all its glory. The majestic House visibly dwarfed the surrounding buildings. The sky, which had recently been gray with overhanging rain clouds, was teal and quite clear. Christine sighed happily; everything seemed right with the world.

**Phantom-time!**

The stagehand did not make a sound when the lasso was wrapped quickly around his neck and tightened expeditiously from behind. He could not see his murderer but felt the power and anger behind the hands that were holding the cruel, constricting rope. While he was still capable of thought and breath he realized that his murderer must be a man. He had never met a woman with such a strong grip.

Loosing the ability to stand, the stagehand sunk to the wooden floor, consciousness disappearing. Vaguely he noticed a figure step over him and kneel before him. The lasso around his neck tightened savagely once more and was then removed.

If the stagehand were still alive he would have heard the Opera Ghost mutter, "How I wish he were the Vicomte."

**Once More to the Couple…**

When they reached Allumer et la Nuit, Raoul exited the carriage and rushed to assist Christine out as well. The restaurant was absolutely beautiful. The exterior was black, outlined in gold. Candles decorated the window seat tables. The name of the place was displayed at the center of the doorway in distinctive white, flowerycursive.

"Oh, Raoul it's beautiful." Christine couldn't help but gush. "I can't believe I haven't seen it in passing before." Christine wondered if she'd miss something so gorgeous and prominent as this restaurant, what things had she overlooked before? "Is it new?"

'_It's not as beautiful as you,_' Raoul thought at Christine's exclamation. But he did not voice this.

Instead he said, squeezing her hand warmly, "It's been open for a week, I believe. My parents went to the grand opening and said that it was just splendid."

A cold gust of wind made his tailcoat and her dress dance oddly. Holding her hand still, he placed the other around her arm, guiding her towards the door. "Ah, it is growing chilly. Come inside, it'll be warmer, I'm sure. And much more pleasant."

**Prologue**

Bitter and electric coldness gripped Erik as he surveyed what he had just done. No sadness or regret could be found in the Opera Ghost's eyes--just disappointment. The vulgar stagehand had been de Changy in his eyes, when he had choked him. But after the deadly deed was done he realized that he hadn't killed the aristocrat, much to his chagrin.

With almost child-like compassion, he slowly returned his lasso to its rightful place inside his cloak and then jumped down from the catwalk, landing on the abandoned stage. He walked into the shadows and headed towards the fifth cellar. This was a favored way of travel.

As he walked, his thoughts returned to his plans for his Christine and the Vicomte. Christine was betraying him with Raoul and he had to remind her who she was dealing with, the Phantom of the Opera, not only her Angel of Music.

'_At the masquerade_,' he decided, _when everyone will be giddy and drunk with dance and happiness, I shall come. Give them a brief reminder. __  
_

_The Opera Ghost is still there. __  
_

_Inside your mind._

**THE END**

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A/N: Well, for now it's the end. My sister and I might decide to make, like, more installments of this type, but this is it, for the time being. 

We'll be much obliged if you lot reviewed!


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